


Back to Before

by andachippedcup



Series: andachippedcup's Olicity Summer Sizzle Fics [3]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Arrow meets Time Traveler's Wife, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Little kid Mia, Oliver silently judging Barry for changing the timeline, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-06-09 15:55:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19479172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andachippedcup/pseuds/andachippedcup
Summary: During his travels protecting the universe alongside the Monitor, Oliver is sent on various missions. These missions take place all throughout time and space - occasionally, he is even sent to Earth-1. Oliver takes advantage of the opportunity to keep tabs on Mia as she grows up without him. From her early childhood all the way into her young adulthood, Oliver is there, sometimes even without Mia knowing it. No matter where his journey takes him, one thing is clear - Oliver will always be there for the ones he loves.[Olicity Summer Sizzle "Time Travel" Prompt]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Time travel here doesn't work quite the way it's been presented to us on the show but for anyone who's read or seen The Time Traveler's Wife, it's a similar concept - Oliver, when he travels back to Earth-1, zig zags through time. He can travel to Earth and see Mia when she's six one day, and the next time he travels there, he could be further in the past and Mia might only be four. Hopefully that makes sense. Enjoy and thanks for reading!

Time moves differently for him now.

He’s known for a while that time as he’s always thought of it, doesn’t work or flow the same way now that he’s under the Monitor’s employ, jumping here and there between earths in the defense of the universe.

But for all the incomprehensibility of time in his present predicament, he’d really thought a lifetime had passed already. He’s been at this so long, fighting battles of another kind and another scale, it feels like it’s been an eternity since he walked out of that cabin.

His real gauge on how much time has passed though, is the Monitor himself. For anytime that their mission requires a visit to Earth-1, the Monitor firmly rebuffs Oliver’s attempts to accompany him. And as much as it kills him to be denied the chance to return home and maybe, just _maybe,_ catch a glimpse of his family, Oliver believes that the Monitor won’t let him return to Earth-1 as long as his loved ones are alive.

Each rebuke becomes both heartbreaking and uplifting. For as long as the Monitor refuses him, Oliver knows that those he loves are still breathing, still fighting. However much time has passed on Earth-1, somewhere on that planet, one of his loved ones is still in need of his continued sacrifice.

As long as the Monitor refuses him, he has hope that Felicity is sitting before a computer, a cup of coffee going cold beside her, her expression screwed up into that frown of concentration she gets that he loves so much. He can picture her hard at work on her latest project, building the Smoak Tech empire he knows she’s destined to create and expand and use to change the world with.

Each ‘no’ to Oliver is a sign that William is out there, doing something new and surprising to demonstrate the genius level intellect that he possesses, which Oliver adores and is always awed and inspired by. He can envision him with an expression not unlike Felicity’s, hard at work on his latest and greatest digital discovery, or cloning something bigger and more complex than a vegetable, wowing the world with his mind.

Each rejection means Mia is growing into a woman as smart and as beautiful as her mother. She’s harder for him to picture in some ways – he doesn’t know what her likes or dislikes are, what her personality is. And in some ways, she’s the easiest of them all for him to picture. He can see her, so much like her mother, a perfect miniature, with all of Felicity’s good heart and her force of character. He pictures her with so much of her mother and so little of him and he can see her so clearly it kills him.

Each ‘no’ means the three people he loves more dearly than life itself are alive out there on Earth-1, and that’s all he can cling to in those moments after being refused, when the missing them is so painful he wants to die.

So, to be standing on Earth-1 as he is now, has utterly broken Oliver. Because surely his being here means that those he most loves are not. And never, in all his life, has Oliver felt more alone. This? This is a purgatory worse than anything Lian Yu ever inflicted on him. In Oliver's mind, the fact that the Monitor couldn't meet his eyes when he bade him to come here is only further proof that the three pillars of his heart are gone. 

His mission will carry him to Gotham but first, he cannot resist going to the cottage that he has dreamed about at least a thousand times.

It is so familiar and so changed that it takes him by surprise.

The trees have grown and an assortment of new potted plants are scattered along the stairs, the patio, and the seating area out in back of the cottage. The wood pile is huge and fully stocked. But none of this steals his attention as much as the well hidden treehouse built up at the edge of the property.

Because on this treehouse there’s a wooden sign painted in a child’s looping scrawl with the words “Mia’s Bunker”.

He’s still hidden by the treeline but he feels his heart racing because that paint is not chipped and faded like it was painted decades ago. It’s still relatively fresh which means...

 _Oh god._ It means something’s happened to them. The Ninth Circle found them, or some other foul intentioned entity, and his family has died prematurely. This is worse than thinking he's been away so long that everyone he’s ever known is dead. This breaks his heart because how can his baby girl, his brilliant son, and his soulmate have been ripped from this earth without having lived long and happy lives? How can they have been taken far, _far_ too soon? 

He sinks to his knees in agony. He's still reeling and struggling for breath when a door slams in the distance and there’s the sound of running. He gasps for air and looks up just in time to see _her_. And it doesn't matter that he hasn't seen her since she was an infant; the second he lays eyes on her, Oliver knows that it's his daughter he's looking at.

Her long, blonde hair is pulled up into a ponytail and she's wearing a black hoodie and black gloves with long red pants. She’s got a look of determination on her face that shocks him because he realizes it’s his own expression looking back at him as his daughter runs through a series of exercises. He’s so swept up in the act of drinking her in that he doesn’t notice until later that Nyssa, of all people, is directing her, correcting her form and coaching her. And truthfully, he only notices Nyssa when Mia ducks behind her for a brief moment.

It’s all he can do to take his eyes off of Mia, even after recognizing Nyssa with consternation. She's surprisingly agile for such a young child and he's mesmerized by the way she moves, with an ease and a confidence that's so foreign and so familiar all at once. He can't take his eyes off of her. But as he’s watching his daughter circle back into view, punching Nyssa’s gloved hand, he registers movement in his periphery and instinctively, he lifts his eyes from Mia towards the movement.

It's a good thing he's already on his knees, because what he sees almost knocks him on his ass.

Felicity is there on the patio, a mug of what is most certainly coffee in her hands. Her hair is in large, loose curls and she’s wearing her glasses and a focused, serious expression as she watches their daughter train with the daughter of Ra’s al Ghul.

She is so beautiful it hurts. She’s more beautiful than he remembered, so beautiful she knocks the breath out of him. She hasn’t aged a day and she’s as attractive as ever as he watches her, the mother of his child. Beautiful - but haunted. There's sorrow in the lines of her posture, a sadness in her eyes that he can see even from here. His body and soul are yearning for her, desperate to go to her and comfort her. It's so tempting - she's so close - that he very nearly steps into view.

But he must not.

One goodbye had been hard enough. He can’t put her through that again. And if he reveals himself to them, he knows the Monitor will know. Revealing himself could possibly invalidate the bargain he struck - and he must honor that bargain, for all their sakes. The work he is doing will keep them – and the rest of the universe – safe.

His heartbreak is a small price to pay in exchange for their safety.

He’s still gathering himself to go when the training session ends. As he watches, Nyssa dismisses Mia and goes to consult with Felicity. Mia, however, comes bounding towards him, with Felicity calling a reminder to her to play nice with the boys next door.

He’s paralyzed in the moment – if he moves, he’ll likely reveal himself to Nyssa and Felicity, which would be catastrophic, but if he doesn’t, Mia will run right into him. He’s still frozen with indecision when Mia breaks through the foliage and trips on a root not three feet from him with a quiet grunt.

The sound, though quiet, still draws Felicity’s attention; her mom senses are keen and even as he ducks amongst the undergrowth, Oliver can see his wife looking worriedly in his direction, her eyes seeking and quickly finding their daughter's fallen figure.

“Mia, are you alright?”

From the ground beside him, Mia pushes herself onto her feet and dusts off her knees. So quietly he almost misses it, she whispers: “Don’t move or they’ll see you.”

“I’m fine, Mama!” She calls loudly over her shoulder as she wiggles her fingers, seemingly no worse for wear. Without turning to look at Oliver she squares her little shoulders and lifts her chin up. Once more speaking in a whisper too low for her mother or Nyssa to hear, she speaks to him, though her eyes are on the neighbor’s cottage.

“Wait until Mama and Auntie Nyssa go inside and then follow me to our spot.” She directs him in a calm and collected tone, walking purposefully as if she is going to the neighbor’s.

Oliver is at a loss. She’s speaking to him as if she knows him but heaven help him, ever since he left Mia and Felicity to join the Monitor, he’s only ever seen her in his dreams and from the looks of Mia, that can’t have been more than a few years ago. Four or five at the absolute most.

He waits, both to heed his daughter’s advice and because of his own indecision. When Felicity and Nyssa disappear into the cabin, he finally creeps off the way his daughter went. In the place where she disappeared from view, he’s surprised to find one of her little gloves, an intentional breadcrumb left to help him find his way. Following her clues (her other glove, both shoes, and both socks act as additional indicators) he finally finds her in a small clearing at the heart of a dense grouping of trees.

It’s a great hiding place and she’s standing there barefoot and pleased as punch with a grin a mile wide as she runs to meet him. Before he can get a word out, his daughter has flung herself into his arms and wrapped him into a hug so warm and so tight he forgets the bargain he’s struck with the Monitor, forgets his mission, forgets the frigging universe.

All that matters is that his daughter is in his arms, hugging him tight, positively _beaming_ with joy at the mere sight of him.

“Hi Papa. I missed you!” She gushes and Oliver is so wrapped up in the sound of her voice, trying to commit it to memory because it’s one of the greatest things he’s ever heard.

“Mia, how do you know who I am?” He asks quietly, afraid to break the spell but too bewildered to stop himself.

“You’ve been to visit me before!” She squeals, as if this is the most obvious answer in the world. “You said you might not remember that the next time though, so I should remind you.” She giggles, as if this conspiratorial admission is the most deliciously wicked secret. And really, in her little kid world, it probably is. Felicity can’t possibly know that her husband has returned to Earth-1 and interacted with their daughter in the past. Or will this happen in the future? He’s so confused by this time travel, time changing bullshit. Why the hell Barry ever thought himself up to the task of messing with time is beyond Oliver, but _that’s_ another story.

“I did?”

“Yeah!” She laughs in response to him, leaning back in his arms so she can put one hand on either side of his face. “You said to say ‘time is squiggly’ and that our visits are okay with the Mon’tr.” She repeats solemnly, words that she’s probably had committed to memory, waiting to share with him for who knows how long. “You also said t’say that there’s a letter in the treehouse you gotta read.”

His head hurts trying to follow it all, but he manages it somehow. At least he’s apparently written himself a letter, hopefully better explaining how in the hell Mia recognizes him and how he’s been to visit her when he has no recollection of such a thing ever happening. And if the message she’s given him is true, then at least him seeing Mia now, today, is okay with the Monitor.

That’s good because Oliver may be a strong man but he is certainly not strong enough to put her down and walk away without another word. He’s so enamored it’s all he can do to remember to breathe.

“Mia, how old are you?” He asks, unable to help the blinding smile on his face as he tries to commit every inch of her face to memory. She grins at him, so cheeky and full of herself as she holds up one hand, all five fingers aloft.

“FIVE!” She gushes proudly and Oliver can’t help but smile even wider at her enthusiasm, even though he’s mentally trying to process that he’s been gone four years and not the forty that its felt like.

How’s he supposed to keep going like this? He feels like he’s lived lifetimes and it hasn’t even been half a decade since he left the daughter he’s holding in his arms. He’s simultaneously buoyed by the warm presence of her - real and no longer just imagined - and simultaneously, he's utterly destroyed by the realization that he has so much more time and blood and sweat and loss to give in pursuit of the purpose the Monitor has put before him.

How is he supposed to bear it?

Before he can contemplate this further, Mia throws her arms around his neck and sighs as she burrows against him.

“You give the best hugs, Papa. Even Mama says so.” She croons and God help him, he’d like to spend the rest of his life giving her hugs. His perfect, mini-Felicity. His sweet and fiery girl. His Mia.

“Is that so?”

“Mhmm.” Mia hums with contentment, still nestled against him. “Mama says you’re also the best cook.” She leans away from him so she can look him in the eyes, her nose wrinkled up as she confesses a secret. “Mama’s not so good. Uncle Digg’s better.”

Oliver feels something spring open in his chest. He’s remembering burnt omelettes in Ivy Town with Felicity until the second part of Mia’s sentence lands. _Digg_. He’s relieved to hear that he’s still around, bringing Felicity comfort and friendship in this remote ‘temporary’ home that she’s now alone in with their daughter, perhaps permanently.

“Is he? And what does Uncle Diggle make that you like?” Oliver queries and Mia grins.

“He makes lotsa good things but my favorite is when he brings Mama’s favorite. Big Belly Burger.” Mia nods sagely and Oliver feels comfort and relief seep into his bones at this callback to simpler times spent with those he loves.

“Big Belly Burger is definitely the best.” He agrees and then decides to do some digging, Mia being so forthcoming and all.

“And what about your Auntie Nyssa? Or your Aunt Thea?”

Mia’s nose wrinkles again, this time playfully.

“Auntie Nyssa doesn’t _cook_!” She giggles and he will happily play the role of fool any and every day if he can just listen to her laugh. “Aunt Thea makes dinner when she visits but she always wantsa have vegetables.” Mia makes a face that illustrates that she plainly is _not_ a fan of this menu selection. “Auntie Nyssa brings milkshakes and fries though. That’s always good.”

They go on talking. She shows him all the things Nyssa has taught her and he gives her a few pointers – including the importance of keeping her wrist straight when she punches. He says that these tips have to be their special secret and this delights her all the more. He learns in a roundabout manner that Felicity has gotten Smoak Tech up and running and is doing well for herself, based on what he gleans from his daughter’s stories.

Mia has never left their small community. He can feel her hunger to do so in the way she talks about wanting to go with him on hero adventures, like the ones from her nighttime stories with Felicity. She likes the Wizard of Oz. She loves broccoli and detests peas. She wants a pet cat – Felicity has said ‘maybe’ - Mia takes this as a positive development. She will name her kitty 'Arrow' like her hero papa. Or 'Cookie' - both options are strong contenders. Never in all his life did Oliver imagine he would be so happy to be ranked tied for first with a dessert.

The sun has shifted position by the time Felicity's voice reaches them as she calls out Mia’s name in the distance. Mia frowns, clearly upset about going and Oliver feels everything in him breaking.

But if he’s visited her before in her past (or rather, will visit her in his future?) then perhaps, he will continue to visit her in both of their futures. He clings to this hope as she gives him one final hug, still upset beyond words.

“Papa, why do you have to go?” She asks in the tiniest voice, her words catching a little in her throat. He can see that she's desperately trying to put on a brave face but there's only so much that you can ask of a five year old, even one as stoic and strong as his beautiful baby girl. It almost destroys him, knowing that his absence is the cause of her heartbreak. He has a vision of himself sweeping her up in his arms, striding out of the clearing and into the cottage to reunite with Felicity.

God knows he wants that more than almost anything.

 _Almost_.

He wants their safety more. And so he must resume his fight for the universe. For _them_. He’s understanding now why these visits are ‘okay’ with the Monitor.

The Monitor wasn’t denying Oliver the chance to come to Earth-1 because his family was alive, he sees that now. The Monitor was denying Oliver because his energy for the mission hadn’t yet started to flag. Seeing his daughter like this? This is his reprieve, his time to recharge and remember why he must continue the fight, no matter how many eternities it may take to win.

For her. For his Mia. And her brother and mother. _For his family_.

“Because Mia, I made a deal. To keep you and your Mama safe.” He doesn’t mention William; Oliver's picked up on William's conspicuous absence from Mia's stories and he knows this must mean there's a reason for that which he doesn't know and must respect. “Being a hero means sometimes you have to do the right thing, even if the right thing means you can’t be with the people you love the most. To keep you safe, I can’t stay here with you and your Mama. Do you understand?”

Mia’s quiet as she stands before his kneeling figure and then she nods, slowly.

“Yes.” She looks at him, her eyes serious and sad as she throws her arms around him once more, scaling him as easily as if he were a ladder – Nyssa’s training her well, clearly. “But I still wish you could be here.”

“I wish I could be too, little monkey.”

At this she giggles and lets go of him as her giggles become full blown laughter.

“I’m not a little monkey!”

He chuckles and ruffles her hair as he stands, his heart breaking at the notion of leaving her.

“You are so good at climbing, you _could_ be a monkey!” He teases her, his smile gentle. “And no matter what, you’ll always be _my_ little monkey, okay? That can be my special name for you. Deal?” He offers and at this, her eyes light up and she nods.

“Deal!”

On a whim, he decides to gamble on the hope that he will, in fact, be back to see her in _her_ future timeline as well as his.

“And since you’re such a good monkey, how’s about we make that treehouse of yours our special spot, okay? If I ever come to visit, I’ll meet you there. And if you aren’t around when I visit, I can leave you a note or a present there. Okay?”

“Mia!” Felicity’s voice calls out again, louder and closer now.

“Go on, Mia Monkey.” He nods in the direction Felicity’s voice has come from, not giving his daughter time to respond to his offer. Mia nods and begins to walk away, then turns to look at him over her shoulder.

“I love you, Papa.” She reminds him, then she’s gone, swallowed up by the trees as she goes running off to rejoin her mother. Her absence hits him like a punch to the gut and he doesn’t even bother to hold back the tears. This hurts, letting her go, even knowing there’s a chance he could see her again. But if that’s going to happen, he has to read the letter Mia spoke of.

He’s got to get to the treehouse to find it.

It takes time; he has to sneak into his own backyard and steal up the tree. But when he gets inside ‘Mia’s Bunker’ he finds his persistence worthwhile. There’s a small table and chair, a bookshelf chock full of books, and a few bean bag chairs. Mia’s toys are scattered around haphazardly – rocket ships and unicorns, legos and play doh. He even sees the corner of what looks suspiciously like a skateboard sticking out from under one of the bean bags. But it’s the bookshelf he’s drawn to.

If he had to hide a letter to himself somewhere in this place, this is where he suspects he’d go.

He peruses the titles carefully. The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, Alice in Wonderland, Black Beauty, Madeline, Peter Pan, The Secret Garden, Winnie the Pooh, Pippi Longstocking, Anne of Green Gables. His daughter’s bookshelves read like a veritable treasure trove of children’s literature. His fingers run gently across the spines of books, many of which he’s only heard of and never read but had always hoped to someday share with his children.Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Matilda, The Hobbit, Little Women, The Velveteen Rabbit, James and the Giant Peach.

As he nears the higher shelves, the books shift slightly, grow a little more mature in nature. To Kill a Mockingbird, Old Yeller, Pride and Prejudice, The Great Gatsby, Frankenstein, Jane Eyre, Wuthering Heights, The Odyssey, Lord of the Flies, The Catcher in the Rye.

But the one that catches his eye is painfully familiar and he doesn’t even question himself as he reaches a hand out and pulls The Count of Monte Cristo off the shelf. 

The book feels like a bomb about to go off as he holds it in his hands, so hauntingly familiar. With a deep breath, he cracks the book open and sure enough, it’s nestled just there, on a crisply folded piece of yellow construction paper, no doubt absconded from this treehouse’s very craft table.

Returning the book to the shelf, Oliver takes the letter and sits down on one of his daughter’s bean bag chairs, the letter held out before him warily.

Does he want to know what this says?

If it means he can visit Mia again, he does. But he’s afraid to know what the future holds, he’s afraid of this whole time traveling business, and he’s afraid not to know too. But if his wife and daughter can be brave each day, facing the dawn without him, he can be brave and face the words he’s written to himself.

_Oliver –_

_It feels strange to be writing this letter; I already know what it will say. Don’t think too hard about how time travel works – it’ll give you a headache. And don't freak out about the fact that Mia has a skateboard - trust that Felicity will make her wear a helmet._

Oliver pauses reading the letter and looks across the treehouse at the skateboard, which yes, he'd been fretting over as he envisioned broken bones and concussions and all the potential injuries such a device could subject his daughter to. Grudgingly, he acknowledges that Felicity is probably every bit as aware of the dangers (if not more so) and will undoubtedly take every care to outfit Mia with all the helmets and elbow pads she'll need. With a sigh, Oliver dispels his worries and returns to the letter.

_Here’s what we know:_

_When the Monitor sends us through the universe, time gets warped. Time isn’t linear, so we bounce around a lot. So far, I’ve moved forward and backward in the timeline on my trips to Earth-1. The you that’s reading this? This is your first time on Earth-1, but in your future, you’ll travel back to Earth-1 a year in the past, when Mia is four. That’s when she’ll meet you for the first time. Your next trip will be when she’s ten, and the trip after that, she’ll only be six._

_To put it as simply as I can: every time you travel to Earth-1, you could be at any point in the past or future. And you won’t know until you get there – there’s no controlling it, trust me, I’ve tried. We go when and where the Monitor’s mission requires. So far though, every trip here has taken place after we left Earth-1 to join the Monitor. So don't go getting your hopes up about traveling back to the Roaring 20s._

_Speaking of The Monitor - he knows how hard this never ending fight is on us. That’s why we’ve been allowed to visit Mia when our missions take us here, as a way of recharging so that we’re ready to resume the fight for the universe. But here’s the catch; we can’t visit Mia once she’s old enough to start remembering us. She has to grow up and believe that this was all just her imagination – that we were her imaginary friend or something. Which is why the Monitor has said we can’t risk visiting her past her eleventh or twelfth birthday._ _That’s also why we can never visit with Felicity or William. They can’t know we were here. It would be too hard on them, and it might influence the decisions that the Monitor says they need to make that will impact the future._

_Turns out, our family still has a pretty important role to play on Earth-1 and in the universe. So, it's imperative that we not alter their decisions, or they might not become the heroes that the future so badly needs them to be. A family of heroes - how's that for a legacy?_

_So, those are the rules. And we will abide by them, because it means that as long as the timing is right, we get to visit with Mia. Not a terrible trade-off, if you ask me._

_Now get to Gotham and get back to the mission. You **will** see Mia again._

It concludes like that – no signature, no pearls of wisdom or warnings from the future. Just the promise that he’ll get to see Mia again, if he continues to do as the Monitor bids.

With a sigh, Oliver tucks the paper into his jacket and carefully departs the treehouse, bound for Gotham. It’s time to return to the mission that brought him here to start with. 

It has only been a little over four years since he left. The idea of another four years like he’s already endured is daunting, to say the least. But the boost he feels from this visit with his daughter reminds him that this high cost, this sacrifice, is worth it to see to it that his baby girl, his son, and his wife are safe.

They are the entire universe to him, after all. And if that isn’t worth fighting for, he doesn’t know what is.

Oliver takes a final glance around the treehouse and then, on a whim, he goes to the craft table. Quickly, he shakes a few crayons free of their box and does his best doodle. He's out of practice and he's never been much of an artist anyway, but at the end, the monkey he's drawn is a passable approximation. Careful to alter his handwriting so that Felicity won't recognize it and become suspicious, he scrawls "Mia Monkey" atop the page and leaves it at the table, where he hopes Mia will find it later. 

It can be a conversation piece for them to discuss the next time he visits, he thinks with a smile.


	2. Chapter 2

He feels like he must be grizzled and gray. He hasn’t looked in a mirror or seen his reflection in he doesn’t even know how long. Even his own body has betrayed him as a yardstick to measure time; he doesn’t shave for what feels like years and his beard barely grows. 

He hasn’t got a clue how much time has passed the next time he is sent to Earth-1 but when he finds the cabin in the woods, the treehouse is in the process of being built, Mia is even tinier than she was before, and it’s just like he said in his letter. She’s barely four and she’s never met him before. He gets to delight in introducing himself as her father and he gives her the very best bear hug that he can manage, after which she delightedly proclaims that he gives hugs even better than Mama, which is apparently very impressive.

Four year old Mia has a stuffed animal lion that she keeps with her at all times. His name is Jonas, which almost doubles Oliver up in agony. This is surely Felicity’s influence and name suggestion at work. Four year old Mia is a big fan of macaroni and cheese. Her very best friend is named Monty. It takes Oliver a while to figure out that Monty is in fact, an invisible giraffe friend, but eventually he catches on. Monty is very shy, Mia explains, but Monty likes Oliver.

This news makes Oliver’s chest puff out with pride. Who’d have thought his crowning achievement in life would be to make his daughter’s invisible giraffe friend happy?

Mia likes ice cream and loves cuddles on the couch with her Mama. Her favorite Disney princess is Merida but she quickly adds on that she likes Moana too because Moana goes on ‘lotsa ‘ventures’ and has a pet pig which is apparently, the _coolest_ thing ever. 

Oliver is lost in her and wholly in love all over again. He feels the broken pieces of himself stitching back together with every moment he spends in his young daughter’s presence, delighting in her youthful optimism and joy. She invites him to her next tea party, which apparently consists of no tea but includes all her stuffed animals and all you can eat mud pie cheeseburgers. 

They spend a solid hour in the little clearing he met her in last time, the treehouse not yet being an option for them to spend time in. She does cartwheels and handstands and somersaults for him and he is completely dazzled by her. 

When the little watch on her wrist beeps, she makes a face and he can tell, she isn’t pleased at whatever this little reminder is for. 

“Mia, what’s that alarm for?” He questions and Mia frowns and scuffs her shoe in the dirt.

“Fo’ swim lessons.” She whispers shyly and Oliver chuckles. 

“You don’t want to go to swim lessons?” He asks quietly and she shakes her head ‘no’. “Why not?” 

“Wanna stay wiff you.” She admits and she wraps her arms around his neck so tightly, it’s almost a choke hold. Yep, she’s definitely got a touch of her dad’s physical strength, he thinks. 

“Well I wanna stay with you too. But you know what? It’s okay to go. I will visit you again, okay?”

“Pinky pwomise?” She asks hopefully and Oliver dies a little at the skepticism and fear in her voice.

“Pinky promise.” He vows, smiling at her lovingly as their pinky fingers intertwine in one of the most solemn vows he’s ever made, right up there with his wedding vows. “But I might not remember next time. So I need you to do something for me…” 

He gives her the words to say, the message to pass along to him. She repeats the words after him with grave seriousness and she dissolves into giggles when he applauds her and tickles her. Before she leaves to meet Felicity for swim lessons, she holds him tight and after a long hug, she presses her stuffed animal lion into his hands.

“Here you go, Papa.” She tells him warmly and Oliver holds the lion in confusion.

“You don’t want Jonas anymore?” 

“I want you t’have him. So you’s not alone.” She kisses Oliver on the cheek and then her stuffed lion on his nose. “He gives good hugs, jus’ like you!” She grins, rocking forward and backward on her feet before she starts to run off towards the house, pausing long enough to wave at him and call back.

“Love you Papa, love you Jonas!” 

And just like that she’s gone, leaving Oliver clutching the worn little stuffed animal lion that his daughter loves so much. Leaving her this time is every bit as difficult as the last time. But the fullness in his heart is worth the struggle. His little girl has an almost miraculous ability to heal the broken parts of him.

\-----

He wouldn’t precisely say he falls into a rhythm, but Oliver does find that he throws himself into his mission with renewed vigor. He’s battling for the universe, sure, but the faster he tires and wears himself down, the sooner he’ll be sent to Earth to visit his daughter and renew his flagging spirits. It’s ample motivation to send him careening into the unknown at the Monitor’s bidding.

Even still, if seems as though centuries must have passed before the Monitor sends him back to Earth-1 and he finds himself at that same tree line, looking at the same treehouse. The painted sign saying “Mia’s Bunker” is faded and the paint has chipped and flaked. Looking around and finding no watchful eyes, he steals across the yard and climbs up into the treehouse to wait for his daughter. 

It’s roomier inside than he remembers, tidier too. The bookshelf is still there and fully stocked, accompanied by different toys and newly added maps of the world. There’s a little laptop set up in one corner but judging by the thin layer of dust, Mia doesn’t get a lot of use out of it. The thing that catches his eye this time though, is the series of pictures pasted to the wall over a small craft table littered with scissors, glue, and paper clippings. 

Mia’s been busy.

She’s gotten a hold of copies of old newspaper pieces and magazine articles pertaining to his vigilante days. There’s an enlarged, poster size picture of him in his leathers, hood down and maskless, from when he worked alongside the SCPD. 

It’s touching, the way his daughter has ferreted out more information about him, but none of her research hits him quite as hard as her crafting. 

For alongside the pictures and articles of him, there are pictures of Mia and Felicity. Celebrating one of Mia’s birthdays, riding bikes, watching a homemade volcano science experiment erupt. Dozens of family photos, countless precious moments and memories that he’s missed out on.

And in every single photo, Mia has cut and pasted him in. 

She’s taken photos of him from the magazines and simply glued him into every scene. He’s right there beside Felicity, watching Mia blow out the candles. He’s smiling next to Mia as the volcano explodes. He’s clapping in the background as Felicity and Mia peddle around him.

Mia has taken his absence and instead, created his presence in all of these memories and it hits him so hard that Oliver is crying, alone in the treehouse when he hears the sound of activity outside and pulls himself together to go peer out at the yard below.

Mia has come hurtling out of the cottage at a run, Nyssa hot on her heels. He’s aghast at how big she’s gotten. She’s lithe and agile as she moves through the yard – unchanged except for the addition of an archery target along one fence line. Mia dodges Nyssa and does a somersault as she ducks behind cover, narrowly missing another well aimed hit from her teacher. Despite himself, Oliver feels tension and anger broil in his stomach at the idea of Nyssa fighting with his daughter. 

Mia is good, this he can’t deny. But how many times in the past has she taken a misstep, mistimed, or misfired, and been on the receiving end of a blow from Nyssa? 

He’s quivering with the desire to run to her side to protect her, to throw Nyssa back, but he refrains. Even this aggressive style of training is still far gentler than his own education and he must trust in Felicity’s decision to have Nyssa train their daughter with such focus. 

Mia is giving the session her all but as he watches, she launches an offensive against Nyssa, only for the older woman to effortlessly sweep Mia’s feet out from under her. Mia goes down hard on her back and Nyssa extends a hand to her to help her up, a clear indicator that the lesson is done. 

He can see the frustration in Mia’s expression as she refuses the hand offered to her to help her up. Instead, she leaps up and tries to launch another attack against her teacher. Nyssa sidesteps it handily and within a minute or less of Mia rising back up, she’s down again. This happens twice more before Nyssa stands over her pupil commandingly. 

He can’t hear what words pass between them but when the exchange is finished, Mia is still on the ground and Nyssa sweeps away with an air of finality and disappears back into the cabin. Mia is left lying alone in the grass and he can see from his vantage point that she’s stewing, probably furious with herself for failing to best Nyssa. Oliver watches his daughter rein in her anger and he can’t help but laugh. Mia’s more like him than he ever imagined she could be. 

Mia’s also more grown up than he could have imagined.

He’d known from his letter that she’d be ten this time. But ten is teetering dangerously close to that invisible line in the sand that he cannot, _must not_ cross. Could she remember him, if he made himself known to her now? Ten seems old enough to remember such things. But his letter has said eleven or twelve.

Honestly, he can’t help himself. He has trusted in the letter thus far and it hasn’t led him astray. And looking at her now, so frustrated and so upset, he can’t bear the thought of leaving here without hugging her and telling her he’s proud of her. 

He gives a low whistle and she jolts upright, instantly alert and on the lookout. He sits up into the window and gives a little wave. The movement attracts her attention and when her eyes land on him, she smiles a smile so dazzling, his mind goes blank. 

In an instant she’s running across the yard and climbing up into the treehouse, only to throw herself into his arms on sight. 

“Dad!” She’s careful to keep her voice low but there’s so much excitement in her tone and in her posture, she’s literally shaking as he wraps her up into his arms. _So he’s Dad now?_ Apparently she’s outgrown ‘Papa’. When did that happen? They’re only minutes into their visit and he’s already kicking himself over how much he’s missed, how much she’s changed. But he can’t dwell on that now – their time is short and he’s got to make the most of it. 

“Hey monkey.” He greets her warmly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head as he finally releases her from his hug. “How are you, Mia? Did Nyssa hurt you?” 

Instantly, her eyes fall to the floor and she shakes her head, clearly embarrassed that he’s seen her training session. 

“I’m fine.” She mumbles. “I just stink compared to Aunt Nyssa.” 

“Mia, you’re ten. Your Aunt Nyssa is a grown woman. It’s not exactly a fair match and you fight very well. Do you know how proud of you I was the whole time I watched you? You’re _remarkable_.” 

The words are out of his mouth before he can think twice about it but the moment he calls her remarkable, he’s emotionally reeling. _God_ , she’s so much like Felicity. It blows his mind. But there’s not time for him to get lost in the similarities between his wife and daughter - for now, he has to make sure Mia knows how well she’s done. He gently lifts her chin so that he’s looking her in the eyes as he says his next piece. “Practice makes perfect. Keep working as hard as you did today and you’ll have your Aunt Nyssa whooped in no time.”

Mia nods and scuffs a foot on the wooden floorboards of the treehouse, still abnormally quiet. He senses something more is at play but isn’t quite sure how to go about it learning what precisely that something more _is_. He hasn’t had to handle the serious side of parenting very often and then only with William, never with Mia. It’s a relatively new ballgame to him. 

“Hey,” his voice is soft as he kneels down, holding her tiny, perfect hands in his, “-whatever is bothering you, you can tell me about it and I’ll do whatever I can to help.” 

Silence lapses between them but it isn’t uncomfortable. He can see and feel that she’s sorting through her emotions, trying to find the words to give voice to them. After a deep breath, she meets his eyes.

“Mom’s been really sad lately. She’s been crying a lot when she thinks I can’t hear her. And it’s all my fault.”

Oof. This one hits him hard and he has to sit with it for a while, torn between the urge to reassure her and the urge to rush into the cabin below and take his wife in his arms and chase away whatever unpleasantness has brought her to tears. But he knows only one of those is possible. 

“I’m sure it isn’t your fault, Mia. What makes you think that?” 

“I asked her about you.” Mia confesses in a quiet, tentative voice. “I know it makes her miss you but I… I wanted to know more.” She shrugs and in that moment, she’s so deflated and small. “I just wanted to know what happened to you. I didn’t mention our visits, I promise!” Suddenly she’s defensive, her eyes flashing with worry as she looks back to him, fearing she’s upset him but he’s still relaxed and focused wholly on her. “I just… I wanted to understand why we can’t be like the other families. Their dads live with them and they see them every day and they don’t have to keep it secret from their moms.” Mia remarks sadly and Oliver feels a spike of self loathing like a knife to the gut. 

He’s done this to her. She’s upset because he’s not around. Because of his choices. Because of the life he decided to lead back on Earth. And sure, he’s paying for those choices but so are the ones he loves. His kids. His wife. His friends. His sister. All of them. Not for the first (or the last) time, Oliver hates himself for doing this, even if it’s necessary. Even these visits have begun to cost his daughter and for that, he is intensely sorry. And because these visits have begun to tax his daughter emotionally, he realizes now that they can’t continue. At least, not like this.

“Mia… I’m sorry I’m not here with you, like the other dads. If I could, I would be here every minute of every day. You’d get sick of me because I would be here all the time. That’s how much I want to be with you and your mom,” he explains, sighing as his mind conjures a mental picture of that life. He offers her his hand and he walks them over to the wall of pictures she’s pasted together and his eyes land on the poster of him in his Green Arrow leathers. 

“I had to go away. And it’s hard to explain but I need you to know that I didn’t leave because I don’t love you - I love you so much, my heart could explode trying to hold all that love. But to keep you safe and your mom safe, I can’t stay here. The world needs me out there,” he gestures out the treehouse window, “-so I have to stay out there. For everyone.” 

“But… _why_?!” She huffs with understandable frustration. Oliver searches for a satisfying answer but he knows, there’s just not one that he can give to his young daughter without oversharing. 

“Because… That’s what a hero does. They put other people first. Even if it means that they can’t spend time with their family.” Oliver attempts to explain but this doesn’t satisfy her either and he can’t fault her for that. She wrenches away from him angrily and the space beside him is suddenly cold in her absence. 

“Then you should stop being a hero.” 

_Ouch._

“I can’t, Monkey. I just… I can’t.” 

“That’s stupid.” She growls the word and the parent in him wonders if Felicity allows Mia to say words like ‘stupid’ at this age but that’s so not the point right now. _Big picture, Oliver_ , he reminds himself. 

“I know, kiddo. I’m sorry.” 

She’s sniffling and he knows she’s trying so hard to hold back the tears, to be brave and unaffected, but it’s a battle she’s losing.

“I should go. Mom and Aunt Nyssa will be wondering where I am.” It’s a cop out and they both know it but he can’t bring himself to stop her. Not when he’s the one who’s caused her tears. 

“I love you, Mia.” Oliver whispers hoarsely. She gives him a quick hug - she’s still too angry for a long one, he realizes - and she nods as she heads for the door. 

“I love you too, Dad.” 

And just like that she’s gone. It’s the first time one of these visits has left him more broken at the end than he was when he turned up. He has to get a grip on himself before he leaves though because if he tries to do anything while he’s this emotional, he could really mess up and the consequences could be cosmic. 

Best not to accidentally create a black hole on Earth because he’s distracted, right? Right. 

He’s still composing himself in the treehouse some time later when he hears voices outside and his heart stops beating altogether for a moment and then kicks into overdrive. 

It’s Felicity. 

She’s walking across the yard with Nyssa, a glass of wine in her hand as she takes a seat at one of the chairs beneath the treehouse.

She’s so close and yet so far. 

Nyssa joins her in the chair opposite of hers and Oliver realizes with a pang that Felicity is sitting in his old chair, the same one that he sat in as they looked at the stars together so many years ago. Nyssa is in Felicity’s old chair. The chairs are a little worn and faded now, but they’re the same ones. He knows it. 

As Oliver watches, his heart is in his throat. This is the closest he’s been to her in a decade and the want is so bad it’s all he can do not to drop out of the tree right in front of her. He can see Felicity take a steadying breath and when she speaks the sound is music to his ears. 

He’s a deaf man, able to hear for the first time in a lifetime.

“I thought that by now I would have figured out a way to get him back, Nyssa.” Felicity’s not pulling punches as the two women talk; she gets right down to business. “It’s been almost ten years. _Ten_. William’s an adult now. He’s already got a company he’s getting off the ground. Mia’s going to be a teenager soon. He’s missed half of her childhood.” 

“And he’s missed almost a decade of your marriage.” Nyssa adds, glancing at Felicity who closes her eyes and after a beat, nods. 

“I miss him _so much_.” 

Nyssa has nothing to say to this. The two women sit in companionable silence, the kind that comes from years of hard won friendship. As these long moments stretch out towards eternity, Oliver is deeply appreciative of the role that Nyssa has played in the lives of the women he loves. He’s not sure what brought about their partnership but he’s glad that Mia is learning from a capable fighter and that Felicity has a confidante. 

He just wishes that _he_ could be the one filling that role. For both of them. 

“I still can’t sleep on his side of our bed. And I keep his bottle of cologne so that on the days I really miss him, I can at least smell a little bit of him again.” Felicity confesses and Nyssa nods once, slowly.

“I know.” 

“I can’t shake the part of me that still holds out hope that one day, he’ll walk back through our door and into our lives.” 

There’s a briefly uncomfortable period of silence and Nyssa shifts uncomfortably.

“You said that the Monitor told Oliver he had seen Oliver’s death during the crisis he was fighting.” Nyssa tried to be tactful as she reminded Felicity of this soul crushing fact. 

“He did.” Felicity nods, running her tongue over her lips before she swallows thickly. “But if there’s one thing this life has taught me, it’s that nothing is impossible. I have seen aliens and metahumans and time travel and alternate Earths. I have seen people brought back from the dead and I have seen a man use magic to rain destruction down on an entire city. So who am I or the Monitor to say that there’s no possibility of Oliver surviving? Of Oliver _coming home_?” Felicity whispers fervently, her eyes falling closed and her head lowering as she pictures that very image. “He always defies the odds. It’s what he does. And he’ll do it this time too. He’s still alive, Nyssa. I know he is. I can feel it. And I promised him I would find him.” 

Felicity turns to share a long look with her friend and Oliver wishes he could see the expression on her face. 

“I intend to keep that promise.”

Her words bolster him in a way he hadn’t ever hoped he could be bolstered again. This radiant reminder of her unshakeable faith in him has given him more than she may ever know. _God he loves her._

“Oliver once told me that of all the people in his life, you were the only one who never stopped believing in him…” Nyssa murmurs softly and Felicity opens her eyes and lifts her face to meet her friend’s gaze, tears in her eyes. 

“I always knew who he was, even when he didn’t. I just never knew that one of the things I loved most about him would be the thing that took him away from me.” She sighs, brushing away the tears. Nyssa is still waiting, expectant.

“And what thing would that be?” 

“That he’s a hero.” Felicity exhales, shaking her head. “And because he’s a hero, our love story will always be chapters of goodbye.” 

Silence descends on the two and he watches as his wife takes a drink from her wine glass. His eyes are drawn to the wedding band on her hand and his own fingers trace across the matching ring he still wears on his own ring finger.

She’d told him when he was in prison that she would always wait for him. And she is. Somehow though, that kills him more than her moving on. Because of him, she’s alone, _will be alone_ , for the rest of her life. Because he knows her. She’s loyal to the end, his Felicity, and she won’t ever take that ring off. He’s condemned her to a lonely existence and he hates himself for it. 

“You know, I write to him.” 

He feels a jolt of electricity course through him at these words and he’s craning his neck to try and see her, desperate to know more. 

“You write to him? … How?” Nyssa asks the very question on Oliver’s mind. 

“I mean, I can’t send any of it to him, obviously. But I made an entire email address for him and I email him updates on the kids. I email him when I’m lonely or when something has happened that I want to share with him. I send him pictures and videos. It’s like a time capsule. So that way, one day…” 

She trails off wistfully but Oliver can finish her thought.

_So that one day he can come home and see everything he’s missed._ It’s exceptionally thoughtful. It’s exceptionally _Felicity_ . It’s something he _absolutely has to get his hands on_. 

But how on earth he’s supposed to hack an account set up by his hacker wife is beyond him. She’s the brains in their relationship, he’s just the brawn.

“I call it Oliver’s Hozen.” Felicity breaks the silence as she tilts her wine glass and watches the maroon liquid move. “Because I thought if I made it for him, it might bring him home.” She sighs and shakes her head and once more, the two women lapse into silence. 

He stays there watching her, breathing her in, until eventually the pair get up and go back in the cabin. Oliver feels as though someone has carved his still beating heart out of his chest as he watches his wife go. And he understands with abundant clarity why he cannot make his presence known to her. It’s hard enough on him, to be this close to her, knowing that he has to go. He wouldn’t wish this heartache on her, not in a million years.

He’s hurt her enough as it is. 

He has to go. He knows he has to go. But first, he has to at least try to get into the email address Felicity has mentioned. Thankfully, the treehouse has a laptop because the idea of sneaking into the cabin fills him with anxiety. 

Felicity and Diggle probably have the place so wired that he probably couldn’t even _breathe_ near it without it alerting everyone in the neighborhood. Honestly, he’s amazed (and also, honestly a little concerned) that he’s been able to get this close to the cabin without triggering some sort of alarm. 

So instead, Oliver seats himself at the child sized chair before the laptop and he double clicks the little email icon on the desktop. It takes him to the sign-in page and Oliver stares at it a long time, thinking. 

She’d said she called it his Hozen. What if it’s really as simple as that? 

_Username:_ |  
 _Password:_

His cursor hovers over the box as he debates whether or not to try it. He has to. Even if it means risking raising the alarm. It’s worth it. 

_Username:_ olivershozen  
_Password:_ |

He hesitates here yet again because how on _Earth_ is he supposed to know the password? Felicity is a computer genius! The password is probably some super encrypted numeric code that he’ll never in a million years guess. And even if he guesses the password right, who’s to say the username is right?

This was a dumb idea. He doesn’t have enough to go on. He needs to mine Mia for information on his next visit and try again then. But time travel can be unpredictable - he never knows when or where he’s going until he gets there. He’s only known what to expect from these few visits home because of his letter to himself. He’s only got one visit left that he described in that letter and after that, it’s all a mystery. What if he visits and she’s too old for him to approach and talk to and he doesn’t get the password for the account? He can’t know of this ‘Hozen’ Felicity made and not have access to it. That’s cruel in the extreme. 

He can’t wait. It has to be now. 

Oliver takes a deep breath and clears his mind. And then, he simply types the first thing that pops into his head. 

_Username:_ olivershozen   
_Password:_ ********

His cursor hovers over the ‘Submit’ button and his uncertainty is so strong he nearly deletes it all. But then, he thinks of all the things he’s missed, things which may be catalogued in this email account Felicity’s concocted. 

Mia’s first steps. Mia’s first words.William’s high school graduation. William’s college acceptance letters. Felicity breaking ground on the Smoak Technologies skyscraper. 

Felicity missing him.

He has to try. And so, without further delay, Oliver clicks the ‘Submit’ button. 

The computer screen goes blank and for a moment, he’s tense and ready to run, convinced that he’s set off an alarm. But then a small, spinning circle appears on the screen along with the words 

‘ _Logging in…_ ’

He’s done it.

He’s in.


	3. Chapter 3

He can’t believe it. 

Oliver feels like he’s stumbled upon buried treasure. He’s a poor man made suddenly rich with a wealth of emails, all containing thoughts and memories from the last decade that he has missed with his loved ones. 

There’s not enough time, he quickly realizes. It could take him a short eternity to sift through the emails and associated videos and pictures here. He’s not even sure where to begin so he opts for the simplest option that occurs to him.

He starts at the beginning. 

It’s an all text email and right off the bat, he reads it in Felicity’s voice. He can hear it, plain as day in his head as he reads along. 

_Oliver -_

_Today was the hardest day of my life. Today was my first day without you. I know, it’s not the first time either of us have lived through a day like that. But today was the worst. At least after Nanda Parbat, I knew you were still on this Earth. At least when we were broken up, I knew I could still see you, and be Overwatch for you._

_I don’t know either of those things now. And that makes it so much harder._

_I’d be lying if I said I did anything other than cry and take care of Mia today. I also was so wrapped up in missing you that I forgot to do our daily check in with John, so he sent the neighbors to check on me. That was a disaster. I’m not sure that I reassured them of anything but at least John doesn’t think we’re dead._

_I told Mia how much you love her, just like you asked. And I also told her how brave you are and how much I love you. That took a while. Turns out, I love you a heck of a lot. Which is why I’m writing you this. Because I love you and I_ **_will_ ** _see you again. I promised you I’d find you. I started working on that today._

_I might have pulled the plug on Archer before but that was when we were trying to make our old lives work. Now? We’re off grid. There’s no one to steal it. So I’m going to bring it back. I’m sure with some modification (and maybe some hypothetical recommendations from Cisco) that I can get Archer to search the universe and not just our Earth._

_I will find you again, Oliver. I promise. You’re going to be home reading this email someday. Someday soon, I hope._

_Love always,_

_Your Felicity_

Her unwavering belief in him is staggering. Oliver’s fingers quite literally twitch with the desire to walk into the little cabin in the woods and take her into his arms. How many people would have such unshakeable faith?

He moves through the emails quickly, devouring each word with desperation and love.

_Oliver -_

_Today, your daughter was reckless and foolish and so completely_ **_your_ ** _daughter. You wouldn’t believe it. She’s such a daredevil. Do you want to know what your little wannabe ninja daughter did?_

_She pulled herself up today and she WALKED._

_I’m not even exaggerating. She’s basically a mini Green Arrow in training. The kid is hardcore, just like her Papa. Don’t believe me? Well guess what? Yours truly got videographic evidence. In the attached video clip, you will find your spawn behaving like the wild child that she is genetically predisposed to be._

_She took all of three steps before she fell but rest assured, they were the three most glorious steps humankind has ever witnessed, on this or any earth, in any universe, at any point in time or space. (Sorry, I’ve been working on converting Archer to search the universe for you, so right now everything is on the scale of earths and universes with me. But hey, you’re a very specific needle in a very large haystack, so I’m casting a wide net!)_

_I love you. I miss you. I’m looking for you. Be safe._

  * __F__



There are so many emails. He’s overwhelmed. Can he handle this kind of rush? He feels buzzed off of love and connection to the beloved family he’s missed out on so much with. God bless Felicity and her foresight and selflessness, making this email account. He owes her for many, _many_ things. He’ll have to add this to that very long list. 

_Oliver -_

_Do you want to know what our children are? They are small monsters that suck you in by looking all cute and disarming and then they strike. How do they strike? They rudely grow up on you without your permission and it’s uncalled for. I’m suing both of ours for emotional distress, just so you know._

_For one, William apparently has a boyfriend. How do I know this? I… may or may not have surveillance embedded on his social media accounts. I’m not even sure if his grandparents know. But the point is that I now know and WHEN DID OUR SON GROW UP?! Don’t worry, I did a full background check on him and he seems like a very sweet boy. But still. Where did the time go? William was like two feet tall and now he’s got a boyfriend. I’m upset. He isn’t allowed to grow up. It’s bad enough that I have to miss him. Missing him growing up hurts even more. But it’s the only way he can have a normal life and well, living in a remote cabin with no contact with the outside world isn’t exactly normal. Or healthy. I wish Mia didn’t have to grow up in these conditions but, what’s an ex-(ish) vigilante to do? Archer is too dangerous to let out into the real world so I have to stay off grid to work on it. And Archer is the only shot I have at finding you. I’m not giving up on you, so the cabin is home until I can bring you back._

_For another thing, Mia said her first word today. I have a feeling this is the beginning of a long road of her talking back to me. What was her first word, you might ask?_

_“No."_

_Yeah. She’s gonna be a contrary one. I can feel it. But then again, I guess I should have guessed that. I mean, she’s got the stubborn gene on both sides. We’re going to have our hands full. But here again, when did she grow up? She’s TALKING. That’s not allowed. I want to slow time down and bottle up all these moments. I want them to last forever. I want to relive them all with you. I miss you._

_FYI as soon as you get back we’re talking about having more kids because our two are seriously growing up too fast and I think we need like three, six, maybe twelve more._

_(Okay not that many, I was being facetious. But at least one more, yeah? I mean, you make pretty cute kids. Just look at the pictures I’ve attached of William and Mia. Are they amazing or what? You’ve got impeccable genes, Queen.)_

_I love you. I miss you. I'm still looking for you. Be safe._

  * F



He’s down the rabbit hole, alright. How’s he ever going to tear himself away from this? This is _amazing_. And in true Felicity style, everything is beautifully labeled and organized. There’s pictures of William and his grandparents, William’s school photos, pictures of Mia in her stroller, video of her toddling around the cabin. He’s so overjoyed he can’t even read them in order, so he skips through the timeline of emails at random. He reads the most recent one next, dated just a few days previously.

_Oliver -_

_Thea came to visit last week. Mia loves her so much. I wish we could spend more than just a few weeks here or there together. It’s nice talking about you with someone else who knows you and loves you._

_Speaking of talking with you… Mia asked me about you today. I don’t know why but it caught me off guard. I know she’s ten now, so she’s at an age where questions about you are bound to come up. And I want to be able to answer them without getting upset. But I can’t help it. I miss you so much. Being reminded of everything we’re missing out on as a family? It’s hard. It hurts._

_I think it wouldn’t have been so bad if it weren’t for my progress with Archer. Or rather, my lack of progress. I had another failed attempt today. I’m successfully getting it to track your DNA, even across different Earths, but I still haven’t figured out a way for Archer to determine if the Oliver DNA belongs to that Earth or not. So for now, I’m just stuck knowing that there are a whole lot of alternate Earth yous out there. And if you aren’t on an Earth, the program can’t seem to track you; I think whatever timey wimey stuff the Monitor has you getting into, it throws the tech for a loop somehow._

_I managed to get Archer to ping off of you for a moment though this week. I know it was you because Archer was already tracking one ‘you’ on the Earth in question (Earth-7) and then everything went haywire and I was getting two sets of readings. I’m convinced you - the Earth-1 you, ‘my you’ - were there and that’s why I got two readings. Anyway, I really thought I had done it. I thought I was about to bring you home. But just as quickly, you were gone. I’ve been crying all week because of it. I know I should be stronger - for the kids, especially Mia - but I can’t help it._

**_I miss you._ **

_So, I guess it’s back to the drawing board with Archer again. I think it’s time for Smoak Tech to offer a grant to some geneticists to see what they come up with when presented with a hypothetical scenario like this..._

_Don’t worry, I’m not giving up. I made you a promise. Even if I wanted to back out (and I don’t), I’m in too deep now. ;) This program is going to get off the ground, so help me. And when it does? Be prepared not to leave my sight indefinitely. I miss you. I’m going to need to lock you away in our bedroom for months to make up for lost time. So be ready for that._

_I love you. I miss you. I'm still looking for you. Be safe._

  * __Felicity__



So that’s why she’s been crying. Mia feels guilty for asking about him, but in reality, it seems that Felicity’s work with Archer and trying to bring him home is truly to blame for her tears. And she’s right - he _did_ travel to Earth-7 but only for a few minutes in the midst of another one of the many battles he’s fought for the Monitor in the name of protecting the universe and then he was gone, back to the place between Earths where he spends so much of his time.

Felicity was closer to finding him than she may even know. Oliver longs to enlighten his daughter as to the real reason for her mother’s tears, to relieve the burden of guilt she bears. But she’s as good as inaccessible inside the cabin; he can’t get to her in there without risking raising the alarm. And much though he wants to be reunited with his wife, if such a thing is to happen, he knows it must happen after his mission is complete. 

The Monitor has said he will die. But Felicity has said she will find him again. And not to fly in the face of an otherworldly being, but Oliver knows better than to bet against Felicity Megan Smoak. And his money is on her finding him and saving him.

After all, she always has in the past. He doubts she’ll stop doing so now.

Returning to the emails, Oliver scrolls backwards in time and picks one at random, noticing as he clicks it that it has a rather substantial video file attached. _Interesting_. What’s Felicity shared with him this time? 

_Oliver -_

_William graduated high school today. He’s got more college offer letters than you would believe. Seriously, he could fill a book with how many universities sent him acceptance letters (twenty six, if you were curious - Harvard, Yale, Princeton, Cornell - basically all of the Ivy League and every prestigious college wants our son to attend). I’m so proud of our boy that I could burst._

_I’ve attached video footage of his graduation ceremony. You’ll be surprised to know, no hacking was used in the obtaining of this footage. I couldn’t help myself - I went. I know, I should stay at the cabin. But I couldn’t help myself. I organized a non-optional play date for Mia at the neighbors (she’s less and less of a fan of those boys these days but I needed someone to watch her and our neighbors are literally the best money could buy, thank you Dig for arranging the best ex-ARGUS, CIA, FBI and other agents as neighbors.). Then I actually called in a favor with Barry and had him run me over (he was delivering some tech that I had asked Cisco for, so he was already here). The way I see it, it’s the least he could do, right? Don’t worry, I disguised myself, William himself wouldn’t have recognized me. But I had to see our son on his big day._

_He’s incredible, Oliver. He graduated with so many honors and distinctions. And the older he gets, the more I see you in so many aspects of him. He has this way of carrying himself these days that reminds me so much of you it’s insane. Anyway… I’m so proud of him. I know you would be too. Enjoy the video. I know you’ll be as proud of him as I am. And please turn the sound down - I get real loud when his name is called and I wouldn’t want you bursting your eardrums. ;)_

_I love you. I miss you. I'm still looking for you. Be safe._

  * __Your Felicity__



Oliver’s heart aches at the mention of William graduating and the attached video is everything he could hope for and more. His son is almost unrecognizable, so grown and so mature as he strides across the stage. He’s practically weighed down with awards - he’s got a stole and medals and cords in spades. Oliver’s chest is fit to burst with pride. 

Felicity has neglected to mention (or perhaps, has intentionally omitted, so as to surprise him) that William is his class valedictorian. His speech brings Oliver to tears. His son’s words are a balm on Oliver’s battered soul. 

Someday. _Someday_ , he’ll get back to William. Explain himself and make up for all the lost time. Somehow, someday. It will happen. It has to. Oliver cannot fathom never being able to look his son in the eyes again to tell him that he loves him and he’s proud of him. 

For now, however, Oliver settles for basking in the joy of seeing his son living his best life, exceeding all possible expectations placed on him. William is _brilliant_. This isn’t news but it is nice to be reminded of how capable and strong and smart his boy is. The other nice thing that Felicity hasn’t mentioned? 

William’s committed to going to MIT - in the video, Felicity zooms in on the graduation program that reviews the accomplishments and scholarships of each graduate, as well as the university they’ve chosen to attend. And there, below William’s name, Oliver sees it. _Massachusetts Institute of Technology_. William wants to go to MIT. Just like Felicity. This makes a tiny bud of hope bloom in Oliver’s heart. Perhaps, _perhaps_ , there is a chance for reconciliation between the three of them, if ever and whenever Felicity is able to help Oliver make his way home. 

After all, why would William want to go to MIT if he resented Felicity and Oliver entirely? In Oliver’s heart, this means there’s a chance for them to one day, be okay. And if they can be okay, they can be a family. 

His eyes trace across the screen and pause as he looks at the date of the email. With a start, he realizes that William’s graduation was _years_ ago; by now, he’s likely already _graduated_ from MIT. And though Oliver has no doubt there is an email filling him in on that graduation too, it doesn’t precisely help the raw pain of how long he’s been gone and all that he has been absent for.

He’s missed so much. And though the emails have given him back a great deal, nothing can give him back the thing he most wants - this time with his loved ones. In his mind, he replays Felicity’s words, overheard from her earlier conversation with Nyssa. 

_Ten years_. 

It’s a long time to be gone. It’s a lot of moments to miss out on. But Felicity is still writing him emails. So he has to keep up hope. If she still believes, he must do the same. Yes, William graduated high school _years ago_. That’s a bitter pill to swallow. And yes, he’s likely graduated college by now - at this point, William is in his twenties. His _twenties_! His son is a grown man now. His daughter? Almost a teenager. And he’s missed it all. 

But as long as Felicity is still working to bring him home, Oliver has hope that he can reconcile with his son. He can know his daughter. He can be there for them. All of them. 

With a deep sigh, Oliver tears his eyes away from the screen. He could stay here, reading these emails without need for food or rest, but he knows that he needs to go. He’s overstayed himself already. At least now he knows the username and password to revisit this the next time he travels back here. He’s at least got one more visit. He can read more then. 

Swallowing, Oliver logs out of the email address, careful to mark everything back as ‘unread’ before he does so, on the offhand chance that Felicity logs in to check the account. He doesn’t want to frighten her and he doesn’t want to get her hopes up if heartbreak is all that awaits her. Better to leave her in the dark than to torment her. 

\-----

It takes half a hundred lifetimes, or so it seems, before Oliver is able to make his next trip to Earth-1, to the precious cabin squirreled away in the woods. He feels guilty for even thinking it, but as he steps through the foliage at the edge of the property, he’s relieved to find a younger Mia sitting at the base of her treehouse reading. Just as his letter to himself had said, she looks to be about six; he feels some of the tension slide off his shoulders.

Ten year old Mia, so close to the cutoff the Monitor has given him, has proven just how hard being a parent can be. Oliver is still smarting from the things she said during his last visit, however justified. At least younger Mia is a little less grown up, a little less likely to ask some of the hardest hitting questions. Or maybe that’s just something he has to tell himself in order to be able to face his daughter again.

He watches her from the outskirts of the forest. Her blonde hair is loose and falls in waves around her face, so much like her mother that he’s not able to breathe normally for a time. Oliver knows he shouldn’t be wasting precious time watching her and not interacting with her but she’s so serene that he struggles to interrupt her. This is his _daughter_. Not for the first time, Oliver is blown away by the reminder that this beautiful, wonderful, magnificent, tiny human is the product of his and Felicity’s love. Half Felicity (the dominant half, he hopes) and half him. 

Sometimes, he still can’t believe that he, Oliver Queen, has gone from the idiotic, drunk and disorderly playboy, to brooding vigilante, to this: a father of two, devoted husband, and family minded man. He hopes it isn’t too self serving to say that his growth and transformation has been extreme. 

Taking a deep breath, he gives a soft, sharp whistle. 

Mia sets the book aside and looks around, shrewdly sweeping the treeline as she looks for the source of the sound. With a little wave, he draws her eye, delighting in the way her whole face lights up and she starts to move as though to run to him, only to stop.

Instead, she rises very slowly and with great self control, tucking the book beneath her arm. Making pointed eye contact with him, she calls out in his approximate direction.

“Mom? I’m going to read in my treehouse for a while!”

_Mom?!_

Oliver feels a surge of electricity as his eyes scan the backyard again, this time looking for Felicity. He’s been so wrapped up in Mia, he’s somehow _missed_ the fact that Felicity is out here somewhere. 

“Okay Mia but not for too long. I’m probably going to clean myself up and go inside. Don’t stay up there too long; it’s getting late and you still need to take a bath before bed,” Felicity reminds their daughter, prompting Mia to roll her eyes so exaggeratedly that Oliver can see it even from his vantage.

Felicity’s voice is closer to him than he expected and Oliver sinks down low in the brush; she’s been tinkering with some piece of equipment. It’s so large, it’s actually obscured her from his view but now that she’s risen, he can see her clearly. Whatever she’s been working on looks like a satellite dish or something similar, but he can’t even begin to know what it really is.

Tech has always been Felicity’s forte far more than his own, after all. 

He drinks in the sight of her, as beautiful as ever. The physical ache he feels for her is so strong, he has to dig his nails into his own palms to stop himself from standing up and revealing himself, or from calling out to her.

He misses Felicity more than words are capable of describing. 

She’s got a smudge of grease on her nose that trails upward, she’s likely given it to herself accidentally in the process of pushing up her glasses. Her hair is pulled back in a high ponytail that’s begun to come loose; there are wisps of hair falling free from it even as he watches. She’s sweaty and tired looking but there’s a happy little lift to each step that tells him she’s pleased with whatever her tinkering has yielded. 

He watches her go, his heart in his throat. When the back door closes behind her, Mia flings herself at the ladder up to her treehouse and Oliver can’t help but chuckle. His daughter’s enthusiasm would be contagious if he weren’t already equally excited to see her. 

When enough time has passed and there’s no sign of Felicity peeking from the cabin, Oliver hurries up the treehouse after his daughter, eager to join her. He’s barely made it inside when she flies at him like she’s been shot from a cannon. 

“DAD!” She whoops quietly, throwing her arms around his neck as she quite literally leaps into his arms. 

“Monkey!” 

They embrace for a while, not speaking as they soak up each other’s presence. When at last she loosens her grip around his neck, she’s all smiles. 

“Aunt Nyssa’s been teaching me how to shoot a bow and arrow! She says I’m not ready to use yours yet, but she said that _someday_ I will be! Is that true?” 

Oliver can’t help but smile at his daughter’s enthusiastic rambling. He sees plenty of Felicity in her physical features, but this babbling? That’s Felicity’s personality shining through Mia and it makes his spirits soar. 

“Of course it’s true. You practice hard and you train hard, don’t you?” She nods up at him, her little round cheeks made all the rounder by the proud grin she’s giving him. “Well then you’ll be using my bow in no time. Just listen to your Aunt Nyssa. She’ll know when you’re ready.” 

In answer, Mia puts her hands behind her back and shuffles about, a hopeful expression on her face. 

“I _really_ want _you_ to show me,” she confesses and Oliver can’t help the smile and accompanying laugh that escape him.

“Is that so? You really want to learn from me?” 

“Mom says you were the best archer _ever_ ,” Mia explains, unable to help the awe that enters her voice as she says this. A bubble of pride swells within Oliver’s chest. Felicity said that about him, huh? 

“I mean, I’m pretty good. But I don’t know about ‘best ever’,” he explains with a grin. Mia however, will not be dissuaded. She shakes her head and crosses her arms before her.

“Mom said. And Mom _doesn’t_ lie,” Mia states stoically and Oliver has to clamp his mouth shut before he accidentally dispels this notion. Felicity _is_ very honest. But he knows she lies. At least a teeny, tiny bit. Instead, he simply grins.

“Well alright then. Have you got your bow?”

Mia’s eyes bulge suddenly with excitement. Before anything more can be said or done, she zooms out of the treehouse and down the ladder, only to reemerge a few minutes later with her bow and quiver slung across her back. She’s panting when she comes to stand before Oliver, but there’s immense pride on her face as she hands him her bow for him to inspect. He makes a show of studying it and turning it over in his hands. It’s small (though next to her it looks massive) and it’s not the same caliber or style as his old bow, but all things considered, it’s a pretty good piece of equipment for a child of her size. It’s a simple English Longbow - little more than a polished stick and some string. It’s sufficient for teaching someone archery - supposing that you wanted to teach them on the most challenging type of bow first. Which… knowing Nyssa? Is precisely why she’s selected it for Mia. No taking the easy compound bow route to teach the girl. 

Oliver nods sagely and returns it, delighting in the way Mia’s eyes sparkle under his approving stare. 

“Okay. We’re just going to do a little bit, alright? If Aunt Nyssa doesn’t want you doing tons of archery right now, we have to respect that. She _is_ your teacher,” Oliver sighs, trying to tamp down his own bitterness over this fact. Teaching his daughter to shoot a bow? That’s definitely something Oliver wanted Mia to experience with him - not Nyssa. Mia purses her lips but nods, clearly not _thrilled_ by this but willing to go along with it if it means she’ll get a lesson with her father. 

“Ok. Start by holding the bow horizontal. Good girl, just like that. Alright, now put the arrow there, on the shelf. See how that supports the arrow? Good, good. Now, this part is called ‘nocking’,” he explains, his hands moving expertly to guide hers as he shows her the ropes. “Excellent Mia, just like that, that’s how you nock an arrow. Alright, now pick up the bow, good. Make sure you lock your elbow. Nice. Now, pull your string back.”

He watches Mia do so, and Oliver feels as if the entire world has fallen away. Good god, there’s his little girl, looking so fierce and determined and brave and strong. There aren’t enough words to describe her but she is _magnificent_. It takes him a moment to return to his senses but when he does, he smiles at her and puts a steadying hand on her elbow, adjusting her positioning.

“Okay, now here’s the important part - most people want to look at the arrow and line it up with what they’re firing at. But do you want to hear a secret?” he asks and she nods with a conspiratorial grin. “Okay. Don’t look at the arrow. Look at your target. Look at the thing you want to hit. Look at it _hard_. Picture the arrow landing right there. And then just… let it fly.” 

“Dad,” her questioning tone sounds unsure, “what should I aim for?” 

Oliver casts a glance around the treehouse and his eyes settle on Mia’s craft supplies. With a little scribbling, he quickly makes a target on construction paper. This may be a genuinely, truly, really bad idea. But he’s going to do it. Marching to the opposite side of the treehouse, he lifts the target so that it’s flush with the wall and directly above his head.

“Aim for the target,” he instructs, grinning as Mia’s jaw drops open and her nostrils flare, her eyes bugging at the idea.

“But what if I miss and hit you?!” 

“Is my face your target?”

“No!” 

“Then don’t look at it and you’ll be fine!” 

Apparently this isn’t encouraging enough because the look she gives him tells him that she plainly thinks her father is crazy. Nothing like a little trial by fire, right? It’s how he learned and something tells him it’s how Nyssa did too. It’ll make a fun story anyway, and besides, her arrows can’t do any _real_ damage - they’re pretty blunt. He’s looking at a flesh wound or a jabbed out eye at worst. 

God, Felicity will kill him when she finds out. 

He watches Mia as she puts a shaky hand to her quiver for a new arrow and she preps it just as he’s shown her. With a deep breath, she lifts her bow and draws back her arm, locking her elbow just so. There’s a long span of time where she stares at him nervously and he stares back, still smiling encouragingly. Her eyes close and he fears she’s about to let go blindly but instead, she exhales and then reopens her eyes, her gaze snapping to the target above his head.

The soft _thwick_ sounds a half a second before a dull thud and when Oliver looks up, her arrow is lodged neatly in the target, not quite a perfect bullseye but damn close. When he looks back to Mia, she looks as though a gentle breeze could bowl her over. 

Instead, Oliver runs forward and scoops her up, proud beyond words of his little girl. 

“That was _incredible_ Mia! Good job!” 

“I did it,” she states, stunned. “I… I did it!” 

“You’re a natural,” Oliver beams, giving her a high five before he pulls her into his arms and presses a kiss to her cheek. Mia squirms beneath his praise and her cheeks turn red but she’s grinning from ear to ear. 

“Alright, that’s enough for tonight. What would you like to do next?” Oliver questions, turning the rest of their visit over to her. Selfishly, he wants to ask her a million questions, but at least now he’s got the emails to tide him over in some form or fashion. He really wants to focus on Mia. Especially since…

Since this might be his last trip. His letter only outlined four trips to see her and he’s not sure if there will be more or not. If this is the last time he’s going to see Mia, he wants everything about tonight to be wish fulfillment for her, as much as he can make it so. 

Mulling this over, Mia’s eyes land on the book she had brought with her on the pretense of reading. Oliver can see the way her face lights up as she turns to look back at him.

“Dad can we… Would you read me a story?” 

Oliver is a little taken aback by this, though really he shouldn’t be - he’s seen her bookshelf. He knows she and Felicity must read a lot. 

“You want me to read to you?” Her bouncing nod leaves little room for doubt. His brows lift in surprise but he nods, pleased. “Of course, Monkey. Come on, let’s sit down.” 

They make their way to the bean bag chairs nestled in the corner and they sit down, Mia leaning against him, Oliver with his arm draped over her. And just like that, Oliver is realizing one of his dreams; he’s reading a story to his daughter, who eagerly points out her favorite parts and is even mouthing the words along. She can read on her own but apparently she fancies being read to - according to Mia, Felicity will sometimes even do different voices for the characters. 

Well, those are some big shoes to fill. He doubts he’ll measure up but he does his level best anyhow, throwing himself into the well worn pages of ‘Robin Hood’. He knows she’s read it countless times before - both with Felicity and on her own - but it delights Oliver to be partaking in this experience with Mia now. He becomes more and more animated as the story progresses and Mia delights in his expressions and his inflections as he reads. But slowly, he watches as the weight of sleep presses heavier and heavier upon her. 

And in time, _Mia_ is leaning more and more heavily against _him_. Out of the corner of his eyes, he watches her fight off sleep, with limited success. By the time he gets a quarter of the way through the book, Mia’s barely able to hold her eyes open for more than a moment or two at a time but she’s still valiantly fighting to stay awake and stay with him.

Eventually though, she succumbs to sleep; her little head sags forward and her whole body is pressing heavily against his own. Delicately, Oliver sets the book aside and moves his arms so he can better support Mia’s weight as she sleeps.

He studies her wordlessly, unable to stop the smile that builds as he does so.

If he can’t be talking to his daughter, then Oliver desperately wants to read more of the emails Felicity has sent him on his special account. But the weight of Mia, asleep in his arms, anchors him as solidly as if someone had poured concrete on him. Not even Felicity’s soul-healing words can spur him to move out from beneath the sweet, solid, sleeping weight of his daughter. He hasn’t held her like this since she was an infant, so small and serene in sleep. 

He’d almost forgotten how incredible a feeling it is. And it’s different in so many ways now that she’s not a baby but the joy that it brings him? That’s the exact same. 

He watches her sides rise and fall with each deep, peaceful breath. He watches how her eyelids start to flutter and he can only assume that she is dreaming now. The hushed sound of her breathing is a relaxing background noise. Her face is slack and soft in sleep, free from worries about her latest training session with Nyssa, or the sorrow of having to say goodbye to him again. 

She’s just a regular little six year old kid. And somehow, that normalcy is the greatest gift she could give him. He’s only ever wanted a normal, happy, _safe_ life for his children. And while Mia is safe, he’s not so sure that she’s happy, and her life is certainly _not_ normal. 

Maybe someday it can be. 

His attention is diverted away from watching her by the sound of a door opening outside and Felicity’s voice calling into the darkness.

“Mia! It’s late and definitely _way_ past your bedtime sweetheart. Let’s put the book down and you can read more tomorrow!” Felicity summons their daughter, but Mia doesn’t so much as stir. Oliver smiles and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear before he tries to gently wake her.

“Hey Monkey,” he murmurs, and in her sleep, she smiles and begins to shift, “-time to wake up. Your mom is calling you,” he explains, watching as Mia begins to awaken. She blinks sleepily and yawns deeply, more than a little confused.

“What’s going on, Dad?” 

He’ll never get tired of hearing her call him that. Being a father has proven to be the greatest joy of his life. His only regret is how absent a father he’s proven to be - to both of his children. 

“It’s time for bed, Monkey. Your mom is waiting for you outside. You better go before she comes up here looking for you,” Oliver instructs and Mia nods faintly, a little befuddled still.

“Okay… I love you, Dad. Thanks for reading to me.” 

“Thank you for letting me, Mia. I love you too. Get some good rest, okay Monkey?” 

She nods and gives him a warm, sleepy hug that lights his soul up. These stolen, precious moments? They’re _everything_. 

He sees to it that she’s awake enough to safely climb down the treehouse ladder and he watches as she crosses the yard to meet Felicity’s waiting figure, who embraces her instantly. Together, the two head back into the cabin. Oliver watches until long after both of them have disappeared inside. He can still feel the echo of the hug Mia gave him when she said goodbye.

He really, _really_ loves his daughter. And sleepy hugs from her? They’re next level amazing. 

And it really _is_ late. And he probably should go. But the computer is _right_ there and he’ll never forgive himself if he doesn’t at least _try_ to log in again and read a few more. 

Besides, the letter he wrote to himself at the start of these visits? That letter only outlined four trips back in time to meet Mia. And this has been the fourth. Who knows if or when he’ll get another opportunity like this? Best to take advantage while he can. 

Suddenly, a thought occurs to him:

_What if the password isn’t the same?_

There’s a knot in the pit of his stomach as he approaches the keyboard and, holding his breath, types in the username and password again. To his immense good luck, it works; the computer begins to load the email account. With a start, he realizes there are fewer emails than before but then he remembers, the last time he checked this account was four years in the future. Of course there were more emails then. 

He settles down to it and right away clicks on the current most recent email. Looking at the date, he tries to form some sense of order regarding the emails he’s already read on his last trip. The email about William graduating high school with the video of his graduation ceremony? That email predates this one he’s about to read. So whatever this unread one says? It’s happened more recently.

Time travel is a pain in the neck. Seriously. It gives him a headache. But at least he knows that if Mia is sixish, William is in the twenty to twenty one range. His son’s a man grown. It’s mind boggling. 

_Oliver -_

_Progress is slow but I’m excited because this week, Cisco sent over the prototype tech he and I have been working on. He… doesn’t totally know what I intend to use it for, but that’s alright. It’s tech that sort of mimics his meta abilities. Once I’ve got Archer able to track you, that’s still only half the battle - the other half is getting to you and then getting you back here._

_Enter the Vibe-onic 1.0 (Cisco came up with it, he thought it would be funny if it sounded like ‘bionic’. Honestly, I don’t care what he calls the thing, as long as it works). It looks like I’m trying to compete with NASA, this thing is huge and it looks like a satellite dish. Think I can convince the neighbors that I’m just a TV junkie who really needs 1,000+ channels and that I’m not a tech nerd trying to create previously unheard of, world-hopping technology? ;)_

_Anyway, enough of that. About the kids._

_William is doing really well in school, from what I can see of his grades (yes, I hacked MIT’s records, are we even surprised at this point?). He’s excelling in all his classes and he’s taking an intense course load but you’d never know it from his marks (again, are we surprised? Answer: no). I really wish I could talk to him and reach out. I miss him so much. But I know he’s safer and happier having a normal life, away from all this._

_Can I tell you something? ...That’s stupid, of course I can, I can tell you anything._

_I really,_ **_really_ ** _want Mia and William to meet. It kills me that she’s growing up not knowing her brother. It kills me that he’s grown up thinking we didn’t care enough to get him back. And it kills me that neither of them know the other exists. I know we do what we have to to keep them safe but this? This keeps me up at night. I hate it._

_Anyway…_

_Mia is doing well. She’s still doing regular training sessions with Nyssa. I just… I can’t get it out of my head, what the Monitor said. About the universe needing her. I just… I want her to be ready, whatever that looks like, whatever that means. I want her to be able to protect herself. Mostly, I want the universe to leave our family alone. But if that’s not the case, then I want our family as safe as I can make them. And in her case? That means training her. Fortunately, she’s_ **_your_ ** _daughter, so she’s got plenty of spunk and fight in her._

_Alright… I think this is probably one of my less coherent emails. I’m sorry. I’m honestly so excited about the Vibe-onic that I haven’t been able to focus on much else lately._

_I love you. I miss you. I'm still looking for you. Be safe._

  * __Your Felicity__



If he had ever doubted her (he didn’t), the proof of how hard Felicity is fighting to get him back is right here, buried in these emails. Every casual mention of her progress, every joyous triumph and every heart crushing defeat, she’s shared with him along the way. 

So that explains the satellite dish looking thing he’d seen her working on earlier. No wonder she was so engrossed; it’s a tool she’s using in her search for him. _God he loves her_. Is there another woman in all the world as brilliant and dedicated? He doesn’t believe there is. His wife takes the cake. 

Oliver scrolls through the emails and selects another one at random. This one… this one is different than any of the other emails he’s read so far. But he _definitely_ appreciates it. A look at the date shows him this is an older email, from the beginning of his arduous absence.

_ABSolutely -_

_Today would be our third wedding anniversary. I really wish you were here today to celebrate it. Don’t get me wrong - I wish you were here with us_ **_every day_** _. But today, I’m missing you a little extra. I know we’ve spent a great deal of time apart, circumstances being what they are, but I propose that we have a belated celebration when you get back._

_You know, the first year anniversary gift is supposed to be paper. The second year? Cotton. Now, don’t get me wrong, I think the whole ‘gifts by year’ thing is a little ridiculous. But I actually would have really liked to celebrate year three with you._

_Do you know what the gift for the third anniversary is, Oliver?_

_Leather._

_Let that sink in. We’re definitely celebrating belatedly, no matter what time of the year I get you back, no matter how long it takes. I’m getting a third anniversary celebration. You hear me?_

_I love you. I miss you. I'm still looking for you. Be safe._

  * __Lust Muffin__



Oliver’s head slumps forward until it rests on the table top.

He loves his wife. He loves her more than he can say. And the mental image of celebrating their third anniversary with _leather_? Yeah, that more than motivates him. He wants to curse her for slipping in their pet names for each other like that but he secretly loves it, even if she’s driving him crazy right now. 

He’s reminded of how she looked earlier - hair mussed, bathed in sweat, with a smile dancing on her face and joy glittering in her eyes. He feels the sharp ache for her like a knife and though he’s familiar with missing her, it never gets any easier. 

“Someday,” he says aloud in a hushed but determined tone, “we’ll celebrate our third anniversary, Felicity. I promise.”


	4. Chapter 4

Oliver looks around anxiously as he steps forth from the portal, uncertain why the Monitor has sent him here. This sleepy little suburb doesn’t _look_ as though it is the site of a potentially cataclysmic universal event. But then again, what does such an event really look like? He’s seen more than he can consider over the course of his service to the universe and he’s still trying to figure that out.

The house before him is unfamiliar but is clearly his objective. It’s small and modest compared to its neighbors and only dimly illuminated on this dark night. The address and the street are unfamiliar to him; this clearly isn’t a place of significance to him like the cabin. 

Odd, because usually the Monitor sends him to the cabin in the woods _first_ , and to the mission _second_. But this time must be different. Perhaps this event is more urgent and there isn’t time for him to go to the cabin first. Perhaps he’ll be able to visit it after. 

Or perhaps - and he hates to even entertain the notion - _perhaps_ his trips to the cabin are done. The letter he wrote to himself only outlined four trips through time to see Mia on Earth-1. He’s had all four. Maybe his rewards have run dry because he’s close to this mission claiming his life as the Monitor has warned that it will. Maybe he has seen Felicity and Mia for the last time. 

Perish the thought. 

The only way to be certain, however, is to get this over with. Either he’s here for a visit of some sort, or he’s here for a mission. As he nimbly hops the side fence into the backyard, he prays that he will see his girl today, whatever the circumstances. 

Their visits are the only thing to have kept him going this long. Without them, his heart would have given out long ago. 

As he steals along the exterior of the house, he hears movement inside and grows still just in time to hear the _smack_ of the back door slamming closed. Oliver steals a peek around the corner and the sight that meets his eyes is entirely puzzling. 

The little girl before him isn’t Mia. But she looks so similar to her that it actually makes him do a double take. He’s still trying to figure out what the hell is going on when a face he definitely _does_ recognize appears at the back door and steals outside after the young girl.

“Felicity Megan Smoak, you know that you are not allowed to steal computer parts from your daddy’s office. Give it here, young lady.” 

Donna Smoak is recognizable even now, some twenty odd years before he’ll meet her for the first time. She stands before her daughter with one hand on her hips, the other held before her expectantly. Reluctantly, little Felicity hands over the offending piece of computer equipment and her mother nods.

“No computer privileges tomorrow. Ah! I mean it. Any complaining and I’ll make it two days. Now what do we say about taking things that don’t belong to us?” 

“That taking things is wrong.” Felicity sighs in a quiet, childish voice that distantly, echoes the voice she’ll grow into as an adult. Oliver can’t take his eyes off of her. She’s magnificent and so much like their future daughter that it stuns him. 

“Exactly. Okay, now go play with Mister Square Bear.” Donna instructs and at this, Oliver’s ears perk up. He knows that name. That bear is Felicity’s beloved childhood companion, who she’ll eventually (tragically) lose. This means she can’t be more than what… four, if memory serves? 

As Oliver watches, Donna marches back into the house and leaves Felicity in the golden circle of light cast on the back patio and into the small backyard. Felicity fidgets for a moment as she waits to see if her mother is really gone, and then she produces another piece of equipment, though what it is, Oliver has no idea. Holding her teddy bear tightly at her side, she marches off to the edge of the backyard and sits at a rundown looking little sandbox. She props the bear beside her and, as Oliver watches, she uses her plastic shovel to dig up a buried cache of other computer parts that she’s keeping in a shopping bag. 

Talk about being a little rulebreaker from an early age. She’s a veritable smuggler. He can’t help the proud smile that blooms across his face. That’s his wife, right there. Or at least, she will be one day in the future. 

Taking out her stash (of what Oliver expects are all stolen computer parts from her father’s workbench), he hears her chattering amiably to Mister Square Bear, narrating as she works. Oliver draws closer

“This is the last piece we need. See Mister Square Bear?! I told you I could make us two Walkie Talkies!” Felicity gushes enthusiastically as she finishes work on her gadget and proudly holds it out for her stuffed animal to see. And even from Oliver’s vantage point, he can tell that it… actually looks pretty legitimate. 

His wife was already brilliant at four. This isn’t surprising to him but nonetheless, it is rather adorable to witness her creative genius at work even as a child. Unthinkingly, his feet carry him across the yard to her, inexplicably drawn to this tiny version of the woman he loves more than life itself.

“Who are you going to talk to with that thing?” 

The words are out of his mouth before he can think better of it and instantly, Felicity is on her feet, throwing herself protectively in front of Mister Square Bear, the Walkie clutched tightly in her little fists.

“Don’t come any closer or I’ll call the police!” She menaces him, her little face wrinkling as she frowns at him in an angry warning. Oliver stops moving and holds his hands up in surrender, doing his best to school his expression. Something tells him that laughing at her wouldn’t go over well.

“I guess that’s probably smart. You don’t know me yet. But I’m a friend of yours… From the future.” He murmurs and she squints her eyes at him in a move that he’s seen her do as an adult. He has to bite his lip to keep from laughing as he continues to have a homemade walkie talkie brandished at him by a four year old version of his wife. 

“Prove it.” 

“Mister Square Bear there? He’s your best friend.” He can’t tell her she’ll lose him. That hasn’t happened yet so it isn’t proof of anything and it’ll only serve to upset her. “Your Mom works as a cocktail waitress at the Grand. So that means you eat a lot of Nachos. When you’re sad, your mom makes you hot milk. And now that you’ve built these walkie talkies, your next project is to make a supercomputer.” 

He runs through the list of things that he thinks might verify his status as a bonafide time traveler, uncertain if this gamble of his will end up paying off. But at the mention of the supercomputer, he seems to have hooked her.

“Woah. You really are from the future!” Felicity utters in a quiet but no less ecstatic voice. “How’d you get here? _Why_ are you here? What’s your name? _Have you been to outer space_?” 

Some things never change. Felicity’s rambling is apparently, one such thing. 

“Hold on, hold on. One question at a time.” Oliver chuckles as he slowly comes closer and seats himself on the opposite, far edge of her sandbox. “I came through a portal. I don’t know how it works. I’m not super smart like you are. I just use the stuff my boss gives me.” He explains. He sees her open her mouth to ask further questions but he holds up his hand to fend her off a moment. “I haven’t been to outer space really, but I _have_ been to other planets,” easier to call alternate earths ‘other planets’ than to explain the truth. “As for _why_ I’m here… I think I’m supposed to see you.” 

“Me?!” She squeaks in surprise and Oliver chuckles.

“Yes, _you_. Felicity, you’re a very important person in my future.” He explains with a smile, only for her eyes to go wide and round at this news.

“ _I am_?!” 

“You are.” He confirms seriously, nodding for emphasis. 

“How important?!” She presses and Oliver just chuckles and shakes his head. 

“You are one of the three most important people in the world.” He informs her, which makes her gasp in complete surprise. 

“ _Me?_ ” 

“You.” He grins at her. And it’s true, every word of it. In Oliver’s world, Felicity, Mia, and William are the three pillars that form the foundation of his universe. It’s not a lie to say they’re the most important people in his world. 

“Why am I important?” 

Ah. He’s fallen for the classic conversational trap employed by most children - including, it would seem, the genius, child aged version of his wife. The ‘why/how’ trap. 

“Well… For a lot of reasons. One of the big ones is that you’re very smart - and you use your smarts to help people,” he offers up, hoping this will suffice. She mulls his words over for a moment, then nods in satisfaction, seeming to accept this answer. 

“I like helping people. That’s nice.” 

Oliver grins and nods at her as she seems to settle, the walkie talkie in her hands no longer seeming as menacing as she relaxes and sits back down on the wood frame of her sandbox. She pats the empty space on the plank of wood beside her and Oliver seizes the opportunity to sit next to her. She’s so small; he can’t get over the tiny hands that one day will grow into the hands he’s held a million times. Felicity has always been pint sized next to him but right now? She’s so small, smaller even than Mia at the same age, if he had to guess. 

“So you built these walkie talkies, huh?” Oliver remarks and in answer, Felicity holds out the small pair of communication devices for his approval. 

“Mhmm,” Felicity murmurs by way of answer, clutching Mister Square Bear shyly as Oliver examines her handiwork.

“You are remarkable, Felicity. This is really good work. Do you know that?” Oliver compliments her and he can see her whole face duck behind her stuffed animal, embarrassed by such praise. 

“They’re not as good as what Daddy can build,” Felicity dismisses but Oliver shakes his head and gently pulls Mister Square Bear away from her face so he can look her in the eye.

“Felicity, you are _so_ smart. And these walkie talkies are _really_ impressive. Don’t ever be embarrassed that you’re the smartest person in a room. Be proud of it. I’m proud of how smart you are.” 

She’s still embarrassed and she wriggles a little at the praise but there’s also a shy smile blooming on her face as her downcast eyes lift a little to meet his gaze. 

“Really? Because my babysitter says nobody likes a know-it-all,” Felicity explains and Oliver feels a twist of anger in his gut that anyone would try to stifle the creative genius of the child before him. Knowing, as he does, what she is capable of becoming, he wants her to be encouraged and uplifted every step of the way - not mocked and derided for being smarter and more capable than those around her. 

“You want to know what I think?” 

She nods, intrigued. 

“I think that people who say that are just jealous that you know more than them. So don’t listen to them, alright? You keep being your brilliant self and the people who appreciate that will stick around. And the ones that don’t? They’re not worth keeping around anyway,” he advises her, hoping she’ll take to heart his words even though he knows she’ll probably forget this entire encounter. “Just remember, no matter what, that _you’re remarkable_.” 

Felicity grins at him and nods, still clutching Mister Square Bear and the walkie talkies before her. She lifts one walkie and offers it to him unexpectedly.

“You wanna test out the walkie talkies with Mister Square Bear and me?” 

Oliver beams. Earning her trust in any timeline is a joyous occasion and this time is no exception. 

“Absolutely.” 

They spend the next half hour crisscrossing the yard and talking to each other across the walkies, Felicity giggling as Oliver talks to her _and_ to Mister Square Bear across the airwaves. The walkies work with crystal clear audio that probably beats anything actually available for sale in stores at this point in time. And Oliver’s bursting with pride; Felicity is a technological titan even now, without a day’s worth of formal education under her belt. 

After they’ve been hiding and talking over the walkies for a while though, Oliver hears Donna’s voice call out from the back porch into the deepening night. 

“Felicity! Felicity sweetheart it’s bedtime. You and Mister Square Bear need to come inside.” 

“Five more minutes! _Please_?!” Felicity calls back anxiously. There’s a pause as Donna considers this and then Oliver hears her sigh. 

“Alright. But _only_ five more minutes - then you and Mister Square Bear are coming inside and going to bed.” 

“DEAL!” Felicity crows back happily and Oliver hears Donna close the door as she goes back inside. So this is it; he’s got five more minutes with little Felicity and then he’s got to resume his mission. He doesn’t want to go. Seeing his wife, even if she’s nowhere near the grown woman he knows and loves, has been so soothing for his soul. There are no words to adequately convey just how desperately he misses Felicity. Seeing her, even in this way, has healed a small fraction of his broken heart. 

Felicity comes scampering around the corner to join him where he’s ducked behind a planter of flowers and she’s breathing heavily but grinning. 

“My mom says it’s my bedtime and I gotta go,” she explains, her eyes bright as she stares up at him. “But I want you to take a walkie talkie. Then we can still talk even after I go to bed!” She’s delighted at this prospect and Oliver doesn’t have the heart to tell her that he’s going far beyond where her walkie will likely reach but he also doesn’t want her to think he’s abandoned her the moment he walks out of this yard.

She’ll deal with enough abandonment in her future. He doesn’t want to contribute to that. 

“Maybe you should keep your walkies. Then you can use them with your parents and your friends,” he offers brightly, but this is the wrong thing to say.

“I don’t have any friends to use them with. And I can’t show my parents or they’ll take the walkies away. I’m not supposed to touch my dad’s computer parts,” she informs him shyly and Oliver bites his lower lip. _Oops_. He’d forgotten about that. 

“I want you to take one! Please! Then we can always stay friends.” Felicity has always been impossible for him to resist. And even a child version of her is apparently no exception.

“Okay. I’ll take one. But even if I can’t answer you when you talk on it, I’ll always be listening, okay? So anytime you feel alone, I want you to talk to me on the walkie and wherever I am, whatever planet I’m on, I’ll know you’re thinking of me. Okay? Then neither of us will be lonely.” 

There’s a pause as Felicity considers this and then nods, though she’s still clearly mulling something over in her head.

“Do you get lonely a lot on other planets?” 

He can’t see any great harm in telling her the truth; perhaps it will help her to know she’s not the only one who sometimes feels alone in the universe. 

“I do. All the time.” 

Felicity nods and her brows slant in deep thought for several long moments as she considers something. Then, with only the faintest air of reluctance, she hands over Mister Square Bear to Oliver.

“I want you to take Mister Square Bear with you. Then you won’t be lonely,” she reasons and Oliver is aghast at this development. He _knows_ just how much this stuffed animal means to her. For her to willingly part with it? That’s unthinkable. 

“Oh Felicity, no, Mister Square Bear is your best friend, I couldn’t take him away from you!” 

“But you’re my friend too. And I don’t want you to feel like you’re alone. If you take him with you, you never will be.” 

He’s about to argue when the the back door opens again and Donna reappears in the doorway, a dark silhouette against the golden light radiating from the house within. 

“Felicity! Bedtime!” 

“Coming!” Felicity calls back, looking back to Oliver and Mister Square Bear. She throws her arms around both of them and hugs them tightly and then, before Oliver can protest further, she stuffs her second walkie into the flower pot to hide it and then trots off to join her mother, who ushers her into the house. 

And just like that, Oliver is left clutching Mister Square Bear and one of Felicity’s homemade walkie talkies, feeling profoundly overcome with love for the kind hearted soul that his wife is at any age. He knows if he leaves either the walkie or Mister Square Bear behind, the rejection of her gifts will hurt her deeply. So, though it feels criminal to do it, he takes both of them with him, tying the two together and attaching them to his quiver with a length of extra bowstring. 

Sure, it probably makes him look a thousand times less intimidating to have a stuffed animal bear holding a homemade walkie talkie hanging off his quiver. But why should that matter? It’s proof that at some time at some point in the universe, Felicity Megan Smoak loved him enough to give him her best stuffed animal and her prized tech. Between both of his girls, he’s been gifted two stuffed animals - Jonas the stuffed animal lion from Mia, and Mister Square Bear the teddy bear from Felicity. Both of the two most important women in his life have gifted him their prized stuffed animal possessions, at some point in time. 

And that’s pretty badass if you ask Oliver. 

\-----

There’s a subtle shift after his visit to see Felicity; the mission with the Monitor begins to build up speed. He’s going on more and more missions to more and more Earths, traveling through time like a ping pong ball. 

He’s exhausted and broken and beat to hell but he perseveres. His family _needs_ him to, so he will. He bears what he must, for their sakes as well as his own. But he’s tired. _So_ tired. Somehow, time seems to stretch beyond all comprehension. And while Oliver knows that time is a fluid, changing construct out here in the multiverse, even he must admit that it seems as though he has been fighting for far, far too long without a reprieve. He soldiers on but he can feel his body slowing down; his limbs feel leaden, his joints feel rusted, and his mind feels as though it is corroding away. 

Finally, the Monitor sends him to Earth-1. His mission this time is in Central City but when Oliver steps out of the portal that has carried him to his Earth, he’s not in Central City. According to the street signs, he’s in Star City.

But this is not any version of Star City that he knows. 

He turns the collar of his coat up and walks through the rundown, rainy streets. He catches a glimpse of his reflection in one of the few store windows _not_ broken into shards and he starts in surprise.

His beard has grown in, thick and full; he can see gray hairs peppering it and truthfully, he looks like a different person to his own eyes. There are more prominent lines on his forehead than there were before. How long has he been gone? He feels like it has been decades and though his reflection has certainly aged, he’s not the old, decrepit man that he feels he must be. 

Oliver would swear he’s lived a hundred lifetimes. But his face, while older, is not that of an ancient man. He feels his throat go dry as he stares at his reflection. Mia was six the last time he saw her. How old is she now? How old is _he,_ for that matter?

 _Mia_. 

If he’s here, she must be too. Unless this is another trip to visit Felicity. But that thought gives Oliver little comfort. Star City has changed - and not for the better. The city he envisioned for his family? This isn’t it. 

He makes his way through the remnants of what was once his home. Eventually, he’s drawn to a building by the sounds of loud cheering and shouting and the promise of getting out of the rain. Ducking inside, he sees that the source of the noise is a group of people gathered around a cage match that’s already in full swing. As he glances to the occupants of the cage though, he catches a glimpse of golden hair and his heart is suddenly in his throat. 

It can’t be.

It is.

It’s Mia inside the cage match. It’s his little girl, fighting some hulking lug of a man. He’d recognize her style anywhere, even if he didn’t recognize _her_ \- but recognize her, he most certainly does. Oliver swallows thickly and starts forward to intervene, only to stop two steps later. He can’t do anything without calling _far_ too much undue attention to himself. He can’t reveal himself to her in a way that will make her suspicious or suspect.

Instead, he watches the fight, wincing internally with each blow that lands on his daughter’s small figure. She’s small like her mother but the tenacity? …Well, that’s also her mother, but he likes to think some of that is his influence on her as well. 

Nyssa’s done a good job with her; Mia is ferocious and relentless as she moves through the cage match, absorbing blows and shaking them off even if it means spitting blood and scraping herself off the ground. When all is said and done, she bests her opponent in an impressive display and Oliver can’t help the glow of pride in his chest despite the abundant worry. 

Logically, he knows that at Mia’s age, he and Thea were doing far worse things than Mia is now (drugs and partying and sleeping around, stealing cars, urinating on police - okay, most of those were him, not Thea). But it still concerns him to see her out on her own in this hollowed out husk of what Star City used to be. There’s danger aplenty, and though she can clearly take care of herself, he hates to see her on her own.

Felicity must be worried sick about her. And the idea of Felicity, alone and worried, upsets him even more.

But Mia is fine. He knows this, doesn’t even question it. She’s finding herself and he can’t very well judge how she chooses to go about doing that. He did far, _far_ worse when he was trying to find his way. 

As she leaves the venue, her winnings hastily shoved into a pocket, he positions himself intentionally so that she brushes against him as she leaves. He’s banking on the years and the beard and the gray in his hair to obscure his identity from her but just to be safe he ducks his head down for good measure. Besides, the Monitor said not to visit her past eleven or twelve, and Oliver hasn’t ventured anywhere near Mia at those ages. So this adult Mia before him? She shouldn’t remember his visits, if what the Monitor said was true.

“Sorry about that.” He croaks, trying to disguise his voice for fear she might recognize it. But he’s being ridiculous. Surely she wouldn’t remember his voice. Not after all this time. Not after forgetting about his visits, as she certainly has by now.

Mia bristles instinctively; he can see that she’s already begun to harden her heart to survive the streets of Star City. But when she catches sight of him, she pauses, clearly biting back the instinct to bark some guttural warning at him. Instead she softens, just a touch. 

“Don’t sweat it.” She comments, staring at him hard but without recognition. He makes a split decision and decides to push his luck a little further. He’s old now and the grown woman before him is proof of just how much time he’s committed to this crusade. He can feel that the end, whatever that looks like for him, isn’t far off. The repercussions of pushing his luck are few at this point. He’s honored his bargain with the Monitor. He’ll run the risk if it means he can interact with her, even just for a moment. 

“You were really something in there,” he comments, his voice hoarse with disuse, “-where’d you learn all that stuff?”

She hesitates a moment and keeps watching him, assessing him for danger no doubt. He is all too familiar with the reflex to distrust and she’s inherited that from him, or cultivated it herself, it’s plain to see. 

“From a family friend… and from my Dad.” 

His heart’s exploding like a New Year’s firework display is going off inside of it but he keeps his cool, if only just barely. 

“Well, I bet he’d be real proud of how you handled yourself tonight.”

“I doubt that.” The response is fast, the tone brittle. She’s throwing up her walls again and it’s plain to see, the subject of Oliver is a hard one for her. He doesn’t want to push her too far, so he decides to wrap this up with just one last comment. 

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” 

He throws his hood up and walks away from her, though it breaks him to do it. He’s already trying to refocus on the mission when suddenly there’s a hand on his wrist pulling him up short and he spins to find it’s her hand holding him back.

“Do I- …Do I know you?” She asks, her tone soft once more as she stares at him, the wheels turning as she looks into eyes that are more familiar than she could possibly know. 

“I don’t think so.” He answers and tragically, it’s an honest answer. “Blackstar, right?” The moniker feels so foreign on his tongue, but it’s as good an alias as ‘Green Arrow’, ‘The Arrow’, or ‘The Hood’, he supposes. Maybe better. (But then again, _anything_ is better than ‘The Hood’). 

“Right.” She’s gentler towards him, but not so much so that she’ll offer up her real name. Smart girl. “It’s just weird because I could swear I’ve seen you somewhere before.” She comments, continuing to stare not just at him but _through_ him. 

“I’m just passing through. I used to live here, a long time ago. These days I just pop by every so often. I guess I just have one of those faces though.” He dismisses casually and in response, Mia tilts her head at him studiously. The move throws him for a loop though and just like that, he’s right back to the first time he met Felicity, watching the head tilt she gave him when he told her that ludicrous story about the coffee shop and the bullet riddled laptop. It’s the same head tilt Mia’s just employed on him and he’s just as smitten by it now as he was the first time, all those years ago. 

The power of the Smoak women. 

“Yeah, that must be it.” Mia remarks, entirely unconvinced but unwilling to press the issue. Realizing she’s still holding onto his wrist, she releases him and he feels the absence of her hand so acutely it kills. 

“Enjoy the rest of your night.” Oliver offers as he takes the first step away from her, cursing himself for every step further from her. He makes it all of a few strides before he half turns back to her, a rogue smile on his lips. “And Blackstar? Make sure to keep your wrist straight.” 

He watches the impact of his words just long enough to see the consternation on her face give way to wonder and then he’s gone, disappearing around a corner. 

By the time she runs after him though, there’s nothing but an empty alley waiting for her. 

Breathing heavily a second later as he steps out of the portal that has carried him from Star City to Central City, some six hundred miles away from his grown daughter, Oliver can’t help but chuckle.

Her wrists were straight the whole fight through. She’s remembered his lessons as well as Nyssa’s. Which means, however distantly, she also remembers _him._ With that knowledge and a smile on his face, Oliver goes forth to carry out the Monitor’s latest quest. 

He knows he’s nearing the end. He can _feel_ it looming over him, whatever ‘the end’ looks like for him. But if death is his destiny (that’s still a big ‘if’ - he won’t put it past Felicity to pull some miraculous save off in the eleventh hour) somehow, he takes comfort in Mia remembering him, however distantly. Even if it flies in the face of the Monitor’s instructions that she _not_ be old enough to remember their interactions, Oliver doesn’t care.

He wants his daughter to remember him. And if that’s wrong, why should he give a damn about being right?


End file.
